


Onslaught's Awesome Day

by ultharkitty



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-28 11:05:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty/pseuds/ultharkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A day in the life of the Combaticon commander, told through 24 ficlets.</p><p><a href="http://lost-carcosa.livejournal.com/24953.html">Click here to see all the prompts</a>.</p><p>12 Midnight was written to this prompt from eerian_sadow, 'waking up with Starscream'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 12 Midnight

Onslaught awoke to a face full of cockpit.

His battle mask scraped on amber glass, pitted and scarred and set in equally rough white and red metal. He groaned; that last collision must have knocked him out.

“I do believe,” Starscream said, hoisting himself up on one hand, his smirk altogether too obnoxious this close. “That round goes to me.”

Just like all the other rounds, Onslaught thought. Because if they didn’t, he’d never hear the end of it. And if there was one thing he could happily go his entire life without hearing again, it was Starscream’s voice.

“No need to gloat,” he said quietly. He was meant to be on duty; planning, strategising, keeping those idiot glitches of his in line. But Starscream had needed a grounder to train with. Or more accurately to fire at, bulldoze into and generally harass. And Onslaught had been in the right place at the wrong time.

Actually, that pretty much summed up his life. Ever since things went bad back on Cybertron. Now there was a depressing thought.

Onslaught flexed his faceplates while the jet made a good show of pretending not to listen. His battle mask wiggled, and energon seeped into the corner of his mouth.

“You done?” he said, and hauled himself to his feet.

“Done?” Starscream screeched. “Of course I’m not _done_. Now get back on the marker, I want to perfect my strafing run.”

Onslaught didn’t reply, but moved to the white cross painted on the floor.


	2. 1am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written to this prompt from : 'Catching Skywarp at... something...'

Hook was competent. It was one of the few positive constants of Onslaught’s new life. A breem and a half in repairs, and the ridiculous, humiliating damage from Starscream’s so-called training had been erased. All that remained were a few scorches, but there was nothing he could do about that until the end of his shift cycle.

Ten and a half Earth hours to go. Funny how they stretched out, down here in the deep ocean. It would have been nothing back on Cybertron. But on Cybertron, he had been his own boss, regardless who was paying. Here, not so much.

A clang sounded. Onslaught’s targeting systems locked on, an automatic response.

Another clang, and the door to weapons locker E259 shook in its frame.

“Ahahahahahahahaha!” A large, dark shape popped into existence in the hallway, bent double with laugher.

“Skywarp,” Onslaught said. He was beginning to regret leaving medbay so soon.

Skywarp froze, and Onslaught thought he heard a very quiet, “Oh frag.” Then the seeker straightened, ailerons twitching. “Onslaught!” He grinned, but he couldn’t have sounded less pleased had he tried. “Hey, you’re here, doing your commandery thing…”

“What’s in the locker?” Onslaught said. The door continued to judder. He dialled up his audios, and could just make out a furious, vulgar and expletive-riddled tirade.

“Small arms,” Skywarp shrugged. “Laser pistols, couple’a grenade launchers, your copter’s glue gun, that kinda thing. A few thermonuclear warheads…”

“And Rumble,” Onslaught said.

“What?!” Skywarp threw up his hands. “Why the pit would Rumble be in a place like that? There’s no lock on the inside, he’d be shut in ‘til someone needs their gun, and with your copter in the brig…”

 _Don’t remind me,_ Onslaught thought. “Rumble’s in the locker,” he said. “I can hear him.” It was like he was marooned on a tiny little island populated only by morons.

Skywarp’s expression seemed to war with itself. After a long and agonising moment, it settled on smug surprise. “Hey, guess what I just remembered?”

“What?” Onslaught really didn’t want to know.

“You ain’t my commander, HA!” Skywarp vanished, his laughter echoing around the corridor.

Onslaught sighed. He gave the juddering door a thoughtful glance, then walked on.


End file.
